DC Prime: Year One
by Prime Fiction
Summary: Part of the DC Prime Universe: Year One is a anthology series which explores the early, and redefined, exploits of the various character from all corners of the DC Universe. The first issue by George Jones (Nightwing, Action Comics) and shows how Dick Grayson transitioned from the boy wonder, into his own man as Nightwing! JSA, Deathstroke, Spoiler and Black Canary to follow suit.
1. Nightwing Year One

**Year One #1: Nightwing**

**By George Jones (Nightwing, Action Comics)**

* * *

Dick Grayson sped away from Wayne Manor on his motorcycle. The rain raced down Dick's helmet visor as Bruce stood at the end of the driveway watching helplessly as his former protégé disappeared into the night. Dick didn't look back.

The com-link flashed on Dick's motorcycle.

"Master Richard, please reconsider your decision to leave, I know Bruce can be…"

Dick reached down and ripped the device from his bike and threw it away behind him as Wayne Manor became a mere speck in the distance. A solo tear ran down his cheek. There was no going back now.

Later that night…

Dick parked his bike behind the dingy, run down hotel and made his way with his bag slung over his shoulder to the main desk. Here, he found the hotel owner; fat and stinking of cigarettes and whiskey. He was sat leaned back reading a newspaper.

"Any vacancies for the night?"

"What do you think kid? $20"

Dick reached into his pocket and placed a 20 on the counter. The hotel owner threw Dick a key and went back to reading his paper.

"Top floor, first on your left"

"Service with a smile…"

"What's that kid?"

Dick turned and made his way to his room. Once he arrived, Dick threw his bag on the floor, turned on the small TV set and sat on top of the bed.

(TV) "For the first time in 7 years, Haly's circus returns to Gotham for one night only! Come and witness the amazing feats of 'Gregor the Lion Tamer'! Singh the Indian strongman! And Melissa the mistress of magic! Friday the 15th! 52nd street, Park Row! Tickets available on the gate"

* * *

**Later…**

The snow had begun to fall on Gotham as Dick sat alone atop the roof of the hotel. He breathed into his cupped hands trying to get warm. He couldn't stand the smell inside his room.

"You should really go inside to warm up…"

Dick looked around sharply. Superman stood behind him, the man of steel walked over and sat next to Dick.

"…What ups kid? You have a fight with Bruce?"

"Probably, otherwise I wouldn't be sitting here"

"Fair point, if you need somewhere to stay, I'm sure I can make room for you"

"Thanks but I can't. Sometimes he just makes me wanna strangle him…"

"Trust me, I know the feeling. So what's happened with you guys?"

"It's not just one thing. It's been building up for a while. I tell him I don't want to be Robin, he doesn't listen. I tell him I want to be my own person, he doesn't listen and then I found out Bruce knew about the guy who killed Tony Zucco and didn't tell me about it. When Jason went missing a while back, Bruce didn't even bother to go looking for him.I just don't know what to do anymore"

Superman placed his arm around Dick's shoulders.

"Did I ever tell you about a man named Van-Zee?"

"No? I don't think so"

"Kandorian legend has it that Van-Zee was born into one of Krypton's greatest families. The story goes that after the death of his father, Van's older brother cast him out and took power for himself. Van was now alone, he could easily have felt sorry for himself, but he found his inner strength and the will not to give up.

He created himself a costume and called himself Nightwing. He battled the forces of crime on Kandor and soon had a partner named Flamebird. Together they brought down Van-Zee's brother and Van reclaimed his father's honour"

Dick looked up at Clark and smiled.

* * *

**Elsewhere…**

Timothy 'Tim' Drake lay on his bed watching the news.

(TV)

"Commissioner Gordon, can you confirm the sightings of the mysterious alligator man living inside Gotham's sewers?"

"There is no such thing as the alligator man, croc man or whatever you guys have called him, living beneath the city"

"Gordon! Did the GCPD use the assistance of Batman to bring in Killer Moth?"

"The GCPD works inside the law; official policy is to arrest Batman on sight"

"So what's that searchlight atop of the GCPD building doing?"

"Please let me through, can I do my job…"

"Thanks for that report Rachael; that is all the Police Commissioner had to say on Gotham's notorious alligator man. Here at channel 6 news, we are happy to hear from you about sightings of any ghouls, ghosts or 6 ft Bats."

Tim turned off the TV and began to ponder.

* * *

**The next day**  
**Wayne Enterprises R&amp;D department**

Dick Grayson walked into Lucius Fox's extensive research lab.

"Lucius I need your help, I need some new gear"

"Bruce didn't say anything about…"

"You haven't heard have you?"

"About what?"

"We're not exactly on speaking terms at the moment"

"I see"

"I understand if you say no, I just really need some help"

"I might just have something you may like"

Dick smiled. Lucius pressed a button on a holographic control panel, two floor sections opened up and a large metal frame rose from the ground, from the frame was suspended a black armored suit.

"Our newest model, the whole thing is tripled weaved Kevlar covered but has fewer layers to what your used to, this enables better capacity for motion. The suit is insulated for protection against electricity, fire resistance and it employs new nano optic light sensitive fibers. This particular model was originally intended for the Marines whilst on spec ops missions however the contract fell through before it could be finalized"

"If it's all the same I'd rather Bruce not know about-"

"I already showed Bruce this; he didn't care much for the less protective, more agile approach…"

Lucius reached for a metal briefcase and opened it up.

"…These might also interest you, state of the art 'Escrima Sticks'. Electrically charged and very tough, military grade smoke pellets and shuriken style throwing blades and as seeing as this is a suit designed for the Marines, it doesn't fit the attachment of a 'cape'"

Dick smiled.

"I never did like those things anyway, always got in the way"

"Can't say I ever field tested one myself"

"One question…"

Lucius nodded, Dick pointed do the suits chest pieces.

"…Can I get these bits in blue?"

* * *

The cab pulled up outside the circus tent. Dick got out and gave the driver the fare. He hadn't been back here since that night. The night that it all changed, the crowds were pouring into the big top, the noise of the drums could be heard from outside where he was.

Dick went in and took to his seat. The noise of the crowd was deafening, the beats of the drums went straight through Dick's chest. He felt nauseous and couldn't focus. Then it all came back. That night flashed before his eyes…

* * *

**7 Years ago...**

"Welcome Ladies, Gentlemen &amp; Children of all ages! You are in for a treat tonight! Halys' circus proudly presents to you the world's greatest performers willing to attempt death defying feats for your paying amusement! Will you all please bring your hands together for John, Mary and little Richard…THE FLYING GRAYSONS!..."

The lights swung to the trapeze podium where the 3 performers stood, they waved to the adoring crowd.

"Are you ready Richard?"

"Yes dad"

The crowd dyed down in great anticipation.

John Grayson took grip of the trapeze bar and swung across to the other podium; followed by Mary who grabbed the other bar and plunged off the podium herself; at the same time John swung back also. Mary released her grip and in mid air grabbed her husband's hands. The crowd roared into applause. John and Mary flew back and they both landed on the podium opposite to Dick. The two performers waved to the crowd.

John and Richard then swung down in tandem. Dick released, performed a somersault and grabbed his father's hands in mid air. The duo father &amp; son act successfully landed back on the podium opposite to Mary.

The noise of the crowd seemed to become even greater.

John and Mary both elegantly flew off their podiums. Dick closed his eyes. He opened them and it was over. Their bodies lay outstretched on the floor. The sabotaged trapeze rope swung torn for all to see. The crowd was silent in shock. Tears began to fall from Richard's eyes as he slumped to his knees…

* * *

**Now...**

"Welcome Ladies, Gentlemen &amp; Children of all ages! You are in for a treat tonight! Halys' circus proudly presents to you the world's greatest performers willing to attempt death defying feats for your paying amusement!..."

Sweat began to fall from Dick's forehead, his eyes darted around frenzied; he stood up and stumbled out of the tent. The pain was still fresh. The pain was still real. He crossed the road and walked into a near by alley and vomited. Dick then slumped to his knees and began to cry.

* * *

The sewer cover was lifted out of the way; Tim Drake dropped several glow sticks down the hole to guide his descent. A rucksack was slung over his shoulder and a flashlight was held in one hand. The stories of the monster man who lived in the sewers intrigued his young mind and he came to find out for himself. Tim lowered himself down and used the rusty ladder to aid his descent.

The smell was overpowering, Tim had to breathe through his mouth to prevent him from vomiting. The young man reached the bottom, his foot landed in a puddle of slimy water. Tim illuminated the claustrophobic sewer passage with his flashlight and began his journey into the unknown…

* * *

**24Hours later…**

Dick Grayson sat on his stationary motorcycle; he tuned the radio receptor on his bike to the police callout frequency.

(Radio)

'This zzzzzzzz we have zzzzzz report of zz missing child. Witness has reported in seeing a boy who fits the description entering the sewers located under the Narrows. Any cars in the vicinity please respond…"

Dick Grayson hopped off his bike and opened up the compartment under his seat. Time to field test his new equipment.

* * *

**Gotham Narrows.**

Dick Grayson stood atop a snowy rooftop overlooking the sewer cover that Tim had left open. Dick was wearing the suit that Lucius had given him. It felt good, it felt lighter and Dick liked it. For the first time, Dick had gone out without wearing a cape; he had always felt it weighed him down but Bruce never listened. The young man inspected his new escrima sticks one more time and leapt down from the rooftop.

* * *

**Gotham Narrows' Sewers**

Tim awoke from his unconscious state, he felt something tight around his body. Tim was tied to a chair, wrapped in thick rope. A lone light bulb flickered above his head and lit the large abandoned engineer room. The floor was crawling with what appeared to be hundreds of large sewer rats…

"What the hell-"

"Rats"

The tall skinny figure emerged from out of the darkness.

"Who who are you…"

"I'm the Ratcatcher and this is my humble army"

"Please don't hurt me…"

"Oooh I won't hurt you but HE might if he hears you. If you awaken the beast, you'll regret it"

A lone batarang struck the light bulb, shattering it into pieces and plunging the room into darkness. A voice came from out of the shadows…

"Ha-ha! The Ratcatcher? Give me a break…"

"Shut up! Stop talking!"

"Wow, it would be kinda funny if wasn't so pathetic. Ha-ha!"

"Stop laughing at me! He'll hear you! He'll hear you!"

An animalistic roar came from the distance, followed by the thumping of humongous footsteps.

Under the cover of the darkness, Dick sliced Tim free of the ropes with a batarang. Dick threw the boy over his shoulder and made his way towards the sewer exit. The silence was interrupted with a deafening thud, a gargantuan green scaly fist punched through the furthest wall. Breaking through the hard brick with ease.

"YOU FOOL! YOU AWOKE HIM!"

Dick and Tim continued down sewer passage, his first priority was to save the boy. The Ratcatcher activated a button on his wrist device; his army of sewer rats launched themselves at the beast, covering his green scaly frame. The creature roared and tore the vermin from his body with his large claws.

"I'll EaT tHe FrEsH fROm youR BoNEs!"

The monster swung his giant claw into the chest of the Ratcatcher, sending him crashing across the room unconscious. The bones in his chest were completely crushed. The monster picked up the limp body of the Ratcatcher and tore his body in half. A shower of blood and intestines showered over the body of the brutal creature.

Meanwhile Dick hauled Tim out of the sewer and back to the surface.

"Listen to me kid, RUN"

Tim ran off into the darkness. Dick looked back down towards the sewer hole, the thumping footsteps were growing louder and louder. Dick was taken aback when half the semi eaten body of the Ratcatcher came flying out of the sewer hole and landed on the surface.

"Jesus-"

The beasts fists came crashing through the sewer hole, the creature crawled onto the surface. His body was dripping in human insides and slimy sewer water. Dick didn't hesitate and went on the offensive; however his escrima sticks had little effect on the beast. The animal stood up and swatted Dick like a fly; he was thrown across the road, crashing into a dumpster.

"EVerY KnOw aNd ThEn YoU coMe AcRoSs SoMeBodY YOu ShOULdn'T PIsS oFf! ANd I'M tHat GUY!"

Dick looked up that his opponent.

"I can see why you're pissed off; if I was a big mutated alligator man I'd be pretty pissed of too"

"NaMes CROC! kiLLaH CrOC!"

"Cute. Whose idea was that? Mummy?"

Killer Croc roared an almighty growl and charged at Dick, the young acrobat leapt over his opponent and struck him in the back of the knees. Croc felt nothing, swung around and punched Dick to the other side of the street.

"HA! pUny BoY!"

Croc leapt across the road and landed a devastating kick to Dick's chest. Croc then lifted him into the air and slammed him onto the ground back first. Dick stumbled to his knees but was quickly knocked back down with a thunderous head butt.

A voice came from above.

"Enough!"

Croc swung around and looked up. A lone female stood above. Shiva.

Shiva leapt down and landed a devastating spin kick to the side of the Croc's head. The beast stumbled backwards.

"BiTch!"

Shiva then delivered a series of hard strikes onto Killer Croc; Shiva's skills in martial arts gave her the advantage. Her thunderous attacks brought Croc to his knees.

"I never did like animals"

Shiva mustered all her strength and struck Croc with a kick to the head, a strike that would have taken a normal mans head clean off. Killer Croc slumped to the floor unconscious. Shiva then walked over to Dick and picked up his bloody and beaten body from the snowy floor.

"Word on the grapevine is that little Robin has flown the nest"

"I don't go by that name anymore"

"May I ask what you go by then?"

Dick looked up into Shiva's eyes.

"Nightwing"

"Think of that yourself?"

"I had help"

"I have to admit that I'm rather disappointed in you. You let yourself get complacent and almost killed. I fear my training failed to have long lasting effects on you"

Nightwing spat a thick mouthful of blood onto the snow.

"Well, you're welcome to leave me alone"

Shiva struck Nightwing in the back of the leg, sending his beaten body back to the floor.

"Bad mistake sister"

Nightwing flipped back onto his feet and swiped for Shiva's head with his escrima stick, Shiva intercepted the attack and dropped Dick back to the ground with a knee to the chest.

"Yes, you have made a bad mistake Robin"

"I won't tell you again…"

Nightwing rose again and landed a strike on Shiva.

"…It's Nightwing!"

Shiva side stepped Nightwings high kick and delivered a high kick of her own, opening up a gash above Dick's eye.

"Don't try it again; I can predict your strikes before you make them"

Shiva felt a deadly grip grasp her leg from behind. The Croc had awoken, Shiva swiveled her body around to face her attacker. She delivered a devastating open palm strike to Killer Crocs mouth, smashing several teeth; followed up by a knee thrust to the chin. With the Croc dealt with again, Shiva turned to face Nightwing. But he was gone.

* * *

**Gotham Train Station **  
**24hrs later**

The bruised and sore Dick Grayson stood by the side of the platform with everything he owned slung over his shoulder inside a gym bag. Dick has sold his bike for cash, cash he needed for a deposit on an apartment. He had made up this mind, he was leaving. All that was left for him in Gotham was pain and regret. The train rolled into the station and stopped. He looked up at the front of the train.

'Blüdhaven'

Dick walked onto the train and didn't look back.


	2. Deathstroke Year One, Part 1

**Deathstroke: Year One**

**Part One**

**By JoeyJoell**

* * *

**2013-Cadmus Base, Washington**

Amanda Waller sits, her back hunched, her eyes bloodshot. She sits behind a large computer with an oversized screen that towers over the woman herself. Cardboard cups of coffee pile onto each other in the bin next to her, while she sips at another that will soon be a part of that club. Waller seems to be deleting files, or at least classifying them, trying to do it quickly, before anyone gets the chance to look at them. A man, bald, approaches her, he wears a grey suit, a red tie and his hands are in his pockets.

Man: Working late?

Waller: You know what I'm doing, Luthor.

Luthor: The old man's dirty work.

Waller: President's orders.

Luthor: Isn't it always?

Waller: There are things that only we can know about.

The screen pulls up a file, a large photo covers the right corner of the screen. He has black hair, stubble covers his chin and there's a scar around the left side of his face. On the right side of the screen, there's lettering that reads, "Slade Wilson" and "Status-Deceased". They both pause for a second, Waller blinking and reaching for the mouse. Deleted.

Luthor: Wouldn't want anyone finding out about him, would we?

**Meanwhile-An unknown location in Australia**

Miles away, on the other side of the Earth, the other side of the hemisphere sits a white haired man in a massive office. He wears an eye patch, a black suit and pink shirt, with a black tie. A greying goatee and moustache covers his chin and the skin between his nose and mouth, with scars surrounding the space around his eye patch. He's constantly receiving emails, smiling maniacally as the "You've got mail" sound repeatedly rings. The sound of Waller and Luthor's conversation is let out through the computer, as well as footage from a surveillance camera in that very room.

**July 1993- Operation Gothic Serpent-Somalia**

Armed soldiers surround the perimeter of a Somali National Alliance Base. It's a particularly hot day, the sun creating a blinding light than shoots from the sand and into the eyes. Marching, the soldiers inspect every corner, every reach of the burning base, their heavy clothing causing for sweat to pour from their bodies, the black ski masks absorbing heat. A thud is heard as a masked man in sleek armour drops, entering the base, another man after him wearing the same exact clothing. Black is the main colour of their body armour, with silver and yellow bullets strapped across their chest and a yellow and blue mask covering their face. They land at an empty corner, one of them instantly creeping to walk around it. One of them pulls the other one back.

Masked man: Wintergreen.

He points at a security camera eyeing the very space Wintergreen was about to walk on, Wintergreen nods, heading to the camera and carefully planting a lense on top of the other. A thumb is poked along, signing that they can walk past, the other masked man leading as Wintergreen follows behind. Eventually, they find a place to hide, Wintergreen pulling out a radar system.

Wintergreen: So, if we go... there (points) we'll be able to sneak past without any guards finding us.

Masked Man: No, they stalk the perimeter using the molecule pattern, they keep moving, no-one has a specific post, we need to wait for them to go past it at least twice, then they won't be back for a while.

Wintergreen: Alright, let's do it.

They draw their knives and they clash together, both whisperingly cheering.

Both: For freedom.

Heading out of the den, they sneak through the base, passing the Somali soldiers, trying not to be detected. In their path, stands a Soldier, not moving, guarding his post. The other masked man drags Wintergreen back, as he notices the man turning around, almost staring right at him. Blowing wind is felt at the masked man's leg, causing for him to notice a large, man-sized air-vent.

Masked Man: Stand by.

The Masked Man lifts the grate, entering the air-vent and crawling through, reaching another grate that stands in the wall just behind the soldier in their path. Swiftly, the masked man slides through the grate, out onto the other side, grabbing the soldier's neck and slitting his throat. He signs to Wintergreen, who in reaction heads to him while the masked man stuffs the body in the air-vent. An entrance to the lower section stands in front of them, however, they both inspect the area for cameras or soldiers, never not careful.

Wintergreen: Clear.

Masked Man: Y'sure?

Wintergreen: What d'you think, asshole?

Masked Man: Clear.

Slowly, Wintergreen opens the door, a quiet creek heard as he does, the masked man watching their back like a crow. A red tint covers the interior of the base, while five soldiers stand in the first room, unarmed but for their knives that are strapped to their legs. It seems to be a restroom, all talking and laughing in a foreign language. Thud. Wintergreen throws a smoke-grenade that instantly explodes and gas rises in the room within a second, all of the soldiers coughing. Wintergreen enters the smoke, pointing his silenced pistol and shooting some of the soldiers while the masked man sneaks through the room, killing them all silently with his knife. Once the smoke falls, the two agents are surrounded by bodies in an even redder room, red with the blood of the enemy. The masked man looks to the top right corner, a camera is seen, staring right at him.

Masked Man: Shit. Wintergreen.

Wintergreen shoots out the camera, it exploding as the bullet enters the lense.

Masked Man: They'll be setting off the alarm now. Five seconds and this place will be pouring with soldiers.

The masked man sprints to the next door, kicking it wide open, the door flying as he does. Charging, they run right into a corridor with two soldiers, Wintergreen shooting the first point blank in the head and the masked man leaping into the air and drop kicking the other, stabbing him while he's on the floor. They keep running, turning around a corner and roundhouse kicking another guard, Wintergreen shooting him in the head while he's unconscious. A sign lies on the wall, both unusually written in Russian, Wintergreen taking notice of this.

Wintergreen: Russian?

Masked Man: This was an attack centre ready for use during the heated moments of the Cold War. Once it ended, it was left abandoned, only recently have the Somalian Alliance found it.

Wintergreen: Well, that explains the nukes.

There are two doors in their way, they both take separate paths, searching for the right room. Slam. Slam. Both doors are kicked open, they're empty, they both search. Wintergreen enters a control room, it has the same reddish tint as the first room, and it peers off a large cliff-like area, with missiles lying below it like needles.

Wintergreen: I've found it!

The masked man comes rushing into the room, bending over the control panel and removing his mask. Slade Wilson. He looks less bruised and beaten than in his photograph, no scars around the left side of his face. Wintergreen also removes his mask and they both high-five. Screech. Slade pulls out his radio.

Slade: Your dad is gonna be proud.

Wintergreen smiles, Slade smiles back.

Slade: This is Team HIVE, Operation Gothic Serpent, Slade Wilson, do you read, General Lane?

Lane: I read, Wilson.

Slade: We have located the nuclear missiles and we are ready to de-activate them.

Lane: Set coordinates to 34500-89658.

Clicking is heard as Wintergreen types into a computer, a map appearing on the small screen, a red dot appearing on Mogadishu.

Slade: Sir, that's...

Lane: I know where it is, Wilson.

Slade: What about the innocents in that city...?

Lane: We have one chance to smoke Aidid and most of those bastards out, you are our chance.

Slade: We're supposed to be saving these people and you want to wipe half of them out!?

Lane: Wintergreen?

Wintergreen: Yes, sir?

Lane: Fire the missiles on my count.

Wintergreen: Yes, sir.

Slade: Wintergreen, don't do this.

Lane: 5.

Wintergreen: You heard the man, it's our only chance to kill that son of a bitch.

Lane: 4.

Slade: At the cost of the lives of thousands, potentially millions. I can't let you press that button, Billy.

Lane: **3.**

Wintergreen: If we don't do this now, think of how bad it's going to get, Wilson.

Lane: **2.**

Slade: Think of how bad it's going to get if we do do this.

Lane: **1.**

Wintergreen: For freedom, Slade.

Lane: **FIRE.**

A large sound of combustion and impact is heard, a certain smell of gunpowder and gas. Life disappears from Wintergreen's eyes as a rounded piece of lead fights its way through the very front of his skull, giving him a third eye that drips a red liquid. Silence. Slade suddenly finds himself pointing a gun at his friend's head, smoke rising from the barrel. Finally, after the seconds that felt like minutes, Wintergreen's stiff, cold body drops to the floor, a red substance leaking from the back of his head.

Lane: Slade...what have you done?

Slade: Wintergreen is down. Repeat... Wintergreen is down.

**1999-A Cadmus Lab-An unknown location in Australia**

Darkness, but then light, light that transforms itself into blinding light. Light burns Slade Wilson's eyes to the extent that he has to hold his eyes over them, a bag had just been removed from his head, revealing his face. It's beaten up, bloody, his hair has started to grey a bit, a small goatee starting to grow on the edge of his chin, while cuts are around most of his face. He sits on the edge of a steel table in an interrogation room, chrome walls surround him as he's cuffed around his wrists and ankles. An overweight woman stands across from him, while an armed guard stands watching the door, his back leaned against it.

Slade: Waller... wow... you've really let yourself go.

Waller: It took a lot of effort to find you, Slade.

Slade: I'm surprised it took so long. How long has it been, six years?

Waller: You're a hard man to track, Wilson. You've been all over the globe, as a hired gun.

Slade: I prefer swords, myself.

Waller: Do you think this is a joke, Wilson?

Slade: I think it's funny that you're so stuck up you'd kill a man for saving thousands of lives.

Waller: ...and damning the lives of thousands of others. Do you know how many innocent people died after you refused to fire those nukes?

Slade: Do you know how many innocent people would have died if I had let Wintergreen fire those nukes? Thousands, maybe millions. You'd kill a man for that?

Waller: No, not KILL.

Slade: Then what?

Waller throws a file onto the desk, upright, it reads, "Deathstroke serum".

Slade: I'm not taking that suicide serum.

Waller: I'm giving you a chance, here, Wilson.

Slade: Why?

Waller: Because I'm the only one here that thinks you're a good man.

Slade: Bring in the bad cop, Waller. You're boring me.

Waller: As you wish.

Waller exits the room, furious to enter a large prison-like corridor with the same chrome walls as the interrogation room. Standing against the wall is General Sam Lane, his hair white, shaven, his face aged, scars running down the side of his face and in a green military suit, awards showered on his jacket.

Waller: He's not buying it, sir.

Lane: I'll get some sense into him.

Waller: Are you going to tell him?

Lane: Not exactly.

Lane enters the room to find Slade scowling at him, his face furious with anger.

Lane: Wilson.

Slade: Lane.

Lane: You have been charged with 256 charges of murder, including Agent William Wintergreen and high treason. This is punishable by the death sentence.

Slade: Then give me the death sentence.

Lane: You have a wife, don't you? Adeline. Adeline Wilson. A son too? What's his name? Grant? Now, we're ready to pump the Deathstroke serum into Grant if you don't take it for him. Oh, and, Adeline is pregnant isn't she? A little baby boy. Another soldier to recruit.

Slade launches into the air, his cuffed ankles landing him to the floor, hitting his head on the table on the way there.

Slade: Nyrargh! I'll kill you for this, Lane.

Lane: So, is that a yes?

Slade: ...yes.

**TO BE CONTINUED.**


	3. Deathstroke Year One, Part 2

**Deathstroke: Year One**

**Part Two**

**By JoeyJoell**

* * *

**1999-Cadmus Labs, Australia**

Wires and needles shoot into Slade Wilson's flesh as he is suspended on a wall, connected to various pipes full of a green substance. His hair is halfway white and looks thinner, aging shown on his face and an incredible amount of scars on his abdomen. To his side, a man in a lab-coat, short, balding and thin, he leans over a computer, typing away while his eyes burn to stress. Constantly jumping from wall to wall, the lab-coated scientist stops to look at Slade, who painfully opens his eyes, light shocking them.

Scientist: Hello? Are you awake?

Slade: What do you think?

Scientist: I'm sorry, General Lane insisted that we stop using any type of sedative.

Slade: Wants me to suffer, I see.

Scientist: I can give you some anaesthetic, if you want.

Slade: Let Lane get what he wants.

Scientist: Are you sure?

Slade: I'm sure.

The scientist goes to press a button, the click is like a funeral bell as Slade goes into infinite pain, scorching every organ, every layer of his skin, every centimetre of his body. Instantly, his hair loses even more colour, the slightly grey parts becoming bleached white and the coloured areas turning grey, the blank white making its way up from the roots to ends. Constant screaming projects from his mouth, which begins to pour blood, along with the pores in his skin. But all of a sudden... everything turns white, flashes of memory begin playing in his mind's theatre, Slade taking a seat and chomping at the popcorn. Looking back in time.

* * *

**1994-Pakistan**

A green-yellow glow is spread throughout a green, large, candle-lit tent, a shadow scaling the walls. Following the feet of the shadow is a large, muscular man, Slade Wilson, his left eye bruised, wearing a kind of combat gear. Bullet shells cover the left side of his chest, while a retracted blade lies on his right wrist, even more bullet shells surrounding that. Two guns are holstered on each side of his hips, while a sword rests on his back in a sheath. In front of him sits a large crate, a yellow and black mask on top of it, which he picks up and places on his head, a perfect fit. The top of the crate is lifted, revealing a large automatic gun, with a scope, red light pointer and a blade near the barrel. A seemingly infinite amount of magazines are below it, blending in together like a black sea. The zip on the tent turns, a gap between the door area and the rest of the tent forming, until the door area becomes a hole, a man dressed similarly walking through it. His mask, unlike Slade's, is made of metal, a red glowing eyepiece where his right eye stays. Black armour over a red long sleeved Kevlar shirt, with black combat trousers and two gun holsters at the waist. Bullet-shells are strapped along his chest, while a large automatic gun, similar to Slade's is strapped onto his back.

Slade: Got all dressed up, rookie?

Lawton: Speak for yourself. What's with the mask?

Slade: It's a medal of honour. Are Kane and Fyres ready?

Lawton: As they'll ever be.

Slade lifts the gun from the crate, as well as a few magazines that he straps to his armour.

Slade: Well then, let's do it.

Slade and Lawton exit the tent, finding their selves in a sandy area, with four more tents sharing the green-yellow glow, lighting up the night. A woman and man stand in the centre, holding similar rifles to the two.

Slade: Fyres, Kane.

Kane: Would you look at that? Baby's first day out.

Lawton: ...and it'll be your last if you keep pissing me off like that.

Kane is a quite tall woman, her mask navy blue with two eye-holes, her hair in a ponytail sticking out of the back of it. She wears similar armour, with even more bullet shells attached to her, and knives instead of guns holstered. Fyres, who stands next to her is the only one without a mask, his hair is greying, the blonde disappearing and his grey eyes almost sinking. He is similarly armoured, two batons, holstered on his waist and an American flag pin on his Kevlar.

Fyres: So... let's do it.

* * *

**Islamabad, Pakistan**

The four mercenaries have surrounded a large building that serves as a light source to the slums of Pakistan, its glowing light stretching out to the otherwise dark streets filled with poverty and desperation. Floyd Lawton lies on his stomach from an opposite building, aiming a sniper rifle at the building, while Fyres and Kane stand atop the roof and Slade is inside, climbing up the elevator shaft. It's quite tiring, leaping from wall to wall, jabbing his knives into the gap between bricks, groaning. He continues to groan, reaching above himself and jabbing his knife into the next gap, and the next gap, and the next gap.

Kane (communicator): You okay up there?

Slade: Happy as can be.

Kane: Good.

Slade:...wait... keep talking.

Kane: Why?

Slade: I need something to... *he climbs farther up* NYAGH... distract me.

Kane: Is our little veteran afraid of heights?

Slade: Y'know, you're welcome to do this for me.

Kane: Fine, I'll keep talking... have you seen Pulp Fiction?

Slade: Pulp Fiction?

Kane: It's a movie.

Slade: I don't have a lot of free time in my current lifestyle choice.

Kane: Can't sit in a movie theatre for two hours?

Slade: Not without a government agent breathing down my neck.

Kane: Y'know what? We make it out alive, we'll watch Pulp Fiction, all of us. That alright, guys?

Lawton, Fyres (communicator): Sure.

Slade finally reaches the top of the elevator shaft, wheezing as his face turns a plum purple. He groans again, coughing as he pries open the doors, rolling in and lying on his back.

Fyres: Getting tired?

Slade: Have you ever tried to climb up an elevator shaft?

Lawton: Hey Slade...

Slade: What?

Lawton: I...see...you!

Slade: Shut up, rookie.

Lawton: I'm the man with the sniper, here.

Fyres: Lay off the kid, Slade.

Lawton: Will you guys stop calling me a kid?

Slade runs down the corridor, setting off a fire alarm, giving Kane and Fyres the signal to enter the building, guards run towards him but he shoots them all perfectly in the chest, their dead bodies falling to the ground quickly. He reaches a door, shooting out the camera and kicking it in to reach a dining room. Everybody is on their knees as Slade shoots five bullets into the air and letting out an intimidating chuckle.

Slade: You guys on your way?

Fyres: Getting there as fast as we can, Wilson.

Slade: Good, there's too many of them.

Gunfire is heard as Slade is pushed back a bit, a bullet denting his armour. All of sudden, a sea of gunfire is headed Slade's way as he is forced to take cover.

Slade: Motherfucker. Get down here, now!

Fyres: Almost there.

Slade angles his shot almost perfectly and fires, killing tow gunmen as people begin to parade and run for their lives around the dining room, gunfire clouding their screams. Fyres leaps into action, as well as Kane, Kane launching knives into the air and double flipping into cover. Fyres doesn't seem to do anything. He stops, standing as the men in suits don't seem to be shooting at him.

Fyres: Slade Wilson, you are under arrest under the authority of the United States government.

Slade: Goddammit!

The gunfire stops, Slade rising from his cover and Kane looking unsure of what to do. The men point their guns at Slade, while Kane readies her knives.

Fyres: Don't even try, Ms. Kane.

Slade: It was a set up... of course.

Fyres: Apprehend Mr. Wilson and Ms. Kane, would you please?

Slade: You fucking bastard.

The men in suits head towards the two mercenaries, holding handcuffs until a bullet is heard. A large piece of metal hurtling through the air, creating a hole. It's a small hole, red runs out of it and the man who holds it freezes, and then drops. Slade and Kane looking confused. Soon, multiple pieces of metal start flying into the air, and the other men jump on the third eye bandwagon. All except Fyres, whose face turns red, almost as red as those third eyes.

Lawton: Rookie, eh?

Fyres turns and shoots like hell at the building that Lawton stands on, missing every time. Lawton is able to fire at his kneecap, shattering it instantly, Fyres dropping and clutching it.

Slade: Lawton?

Lawton: C'mon, get out of there.

Slade: Way ahead of you.

Slade grabs Kane by the wrist, both of them running to the exit.

**A few hours later...**

* * *

**Liverpool, the United Kingdom**

Slade, Kane and Lawton all sit together, a lights appearing in front of them as voices launch from the screen. They all chomp on popcorn, laughing every few seconds.

Jules: Does he look like a bitch!?

* * *

**1999- Cadmus Labs, Australia**

Slade awakens, having dreamed of the past, his old life. His life on the run, with the CIA breathing down his neck, cornering him at his every move. A ghost appears before him, a man he hadn't seen in years, Andrew Fyres. He walks with a slight limp, his hair even greyer and his eyes weathered. He smiles.

Fyres: It's so nice to see you again, old friend.

Slade: *coughs* Likewise, bastard.

Fyres: Lawton shattered my kneecap. I lost most of the cartilage, had to take a desk job.

Slade: Yeah, I thought you'd gotten a bit stockier.

Fyres: Don't make me gut you like a fish, Wilson.

Slade: Speaking of guts, yours seems awfully large.

Fyres: Don't push me, Slade.

Slade: Your grudge is with Lawton, not me. Besides, I've got that serum running through my veins, haven't I? Near invincible, they'll make me. I wonder how they'll hold me after.

Fyres: Testing, testing, pushing you to your limits. They'll make you bleed, Slade. They'll lobotomise you after, if they think you're fit for the battlefield and use you as a living weapon, a slave to the country.

Slade: Well, you'd better gut me now.

Fyres: Oh, Wilson. Do you think after saying that, I'd gut you? No. I want to see you suffer, I want to see you scream in agony as they shoot you over and over, seeing if you'll survive the next round of bullets.

Slade: Did Lane send you here to taunt me?

Fyres: No, I just thought I'd say hi to an old friend.

Slade: You used to be a good man, Andy.

Fyres: ...and I deserve an Oscar for it.

Fyres digs a knife deep into Slade's abdomen, Slade squealing and then screaming, Fyres removing the knife, chuckling. The wound instantly begins to heal up, very slowly.

Fyres: Impressive. You know what this means?

Slade: They won't give you the pleasure.

Fyres: You're a strong one, more torture for you.

Fyres walks away, closing the doors in on Slade, Slade laughing.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	4. Hive Five Year One: Jinx

**HIVE Five Year One: The Origin of Jinx!**

**By Deadpoolzilla**

* * *

So it's been awhile since I wrote anything in this diary, which considering that my team and I just escaped being pummeled by Superman is understandable. We've pulled over on the side of the road and have been sleeping in this van we stole on a fast-food heist, but with all these idiots snoring I couldn't sleep so I decided to catch up on my writing.

Since I'm new at this whole 'writing my personal feelings down' all I've really down is talk about my crush on Kid Flash (what? I can't help that he's a total hottie) but I have yet to really write down anything really close to me and after our run in with that Hourman from the future, I figured it would be a good a time as any write down the story of how I became who (or what) I am today, first let's great three things out of the way right from the get-go.

One: My real name is Jenna Barker (which I wanted to keep a secret, thanks a lot robo-Doc Brown!)

Two: Everything I am about to write is the whole truth and nothing but the truth (which is surprising even for me)

And Three: I'm not really magic

I know right? What a shocker! If this where a TV show, the music would totally go Duhn, Duhn, Duhn! at that moment. Now I know what your thinking (god I'm writing this as if anyone's going to read this other then me) anyway, getting back to what I was saying, now I know in the past I've claimed to be a mistress of the dark arts (yeah right, more like Harry Potter wannabe) but really it's not magic I'm using, I mean let's think for a second shall we?

I've never used a wand or something to cast my 'spells' or said something like 'hocus pocus' to use my 'magic' now have I? Nope! It's just a thought and poof your day sucks, then again, maybe you don't need a wand or crazy words to use real magic, I have no clue how guys like Doctor Fate or Zatanna do their mystic mumbo jumbo so I'm not the go-to girl on that front.

So if I'm not a witch, then what am I then? Well isn't that the question of the day, fortunately I'm not going to leave you in suspense dear diary of mine. To find the answers we must turn back the clock to three years ago to when I was still in high school in a city called Dakota. As you may have guessed already I wasn't the captain of the cheer squad or on some dean's list.

I was the school klutz and boy did my reputation proceed me everywhere I went, now I wasn't like a dumb blond or anything (my hair was black back then in case you where wondering) I guess I was just naturally clumsy, from knocking over drinks at lunch to breaking windows at gym class I was a walking disaster zone. Of course being a 'jinx' (ha! See what I did there?) lead the other students to be less then friendly to me on a regular basis, but there was one girl in particular who hated my guts the most for just being in the same vicinity as her: Connie Kingston.

Now let me do a little compare and contrast for you between Connie and I

Connie - brown hair, blue eyes, very intelligent, straight 'A' student, outgoing, incredibly popular, has the body of a fashion model and the daughter of the preacher

Me - black hair, green eyes, not incredibly smart, wears big wire-frame glasses, can barley make an 'C' in anything, an introvert, has the small-chest body of a tom-boy and like I said before: a klutz

Get the picture? Good

On the day before my 'rebirth' as you might say (but you won't because you're a book), I was walking down the hallway to my homeroom and passed by Connie and her friends, who purposely shoved her shoulder into me, making me drop me my books.

Connie: watch it you jinx

Jenna: I-I'm sorry I just-

Connie: just what? To stupid to notice me! You'd think you'd be able to see me with those magnifying glasses you wear on your face, but I guess you're blind as a bat too!

Jenna: B-but you hit me

Connie: I'm sorry, but what did you just say jinx?

Jenna: I said that-

Connie: *grabs her and pins her against the lockers* say another word, I dare you

You see what I mean? She's like a bully that Stephan King would make up! By that point I was sick of all the crap she had put me through and decided enough was enough...I really should have thought that through more.

Jenna: I said you ran into me!

Connie: Why you stupid bitch! *brings first right at Jenna's face*

Ok, so here where my options: I could A: dodge the fist, break free of her grasp and punch her in the mouth so hard her grandchildren would feel it or B: let her hit me in the face

Crack!

Should've gone with A.

After taking a direct hit to my nose that broke it on contact, she let me fall to the floor to write in pain, giving me a grin that made me want to slap it off if I could, but I was to busy bleeding all over the floor. As I laid on the ground, a teacher noticed my pain and came over to see what had happened.

Teacher: is everything alright over here?

Connie: *innocently* yes, but poor Jenna ran into my locket, I tired to help her, but she's just to proud to take it, I'm so proud of her; god gave her strong soul

Did I mention Connie's the reason I became an atheist?

Teacher: your farther taught you well Connie *to Jenna* you should go the nurses station has you can Jenna *tires to help her up*

Connie: it's alright ma'am, I can take her

Teacher: alright then, Thank you Connie *walks off*

As you can guess Connie didn't help me with jack-all and instead gave me a hard kick in the ribs and left me there to suffer. I would've stayed down there if it weren't for the only to friends I had in the entire world saw me on the ground and helped me back up onto my feet. The two friends in question where Vigil Hawkins and Riche Foley and when I say friends, what I really mean is that there really more like good acquaintances who can deal with my natural bad luck.

Vigil was a total happy-go-lucky geek and was a straight 'A' student to boot, but unlike Connie he was a decent human being, although he was a bit obsessed with getting a bit more cred around the school and that lead him to be disliked by some students and teachers. Then there was Riche, he was as smart (if not smarter then) Vigil and was in love with the idea of getting poplar as his friend was, they were both nice guys-granted I'd never date either them mind you, but still nice guys just the same.

Vigil: *helps her up* you ok Jenna?

Jenna: Look at nose and you tell me!

Vigil: Yeah that was a stupid question, come on I'll take you to the nurse's station

Jenna: thanks Vigil

Vigil: hey, what are friends for

Riche: So Jenna, got any plans tonight?

Jenna: Freaking really Riche? I just had nose broken and you're hitting on me!

Riche: whoa, whoa, whoa! That's not what I meant at all, I was just curious what you were up to tonight

Jenna: If you must know I'm doing what I always do when I get home: nothing

Vigil: Come on Jenna, there's gotta be more to that then that

Jenna: I wish there was Vigil, but your life's pretty boring you're a jinx

Just then, one of the light fixtures came loose from the ceiling and hit me square in the head, giving me one hell of headache for the rest of the day. So fast-forwarding past the nurse having to reset my nose and the rest of the shitty school to me walking home with Vigil and Riche, trust me this part is important.

Vigil: did you guys hear the rumors going around about a gang war tonight?

Jenna: That's all they are rumors, everyone's getting all hyped up for nothing

Riche: I don't know, Wade and his crew looked pretty antsy at school today, almost like they knew something was going on

Vigil: Yeah, that's a bit spooky

Jenna: Trust me this will all turn out to be one big load of nothing

Having said that, we finally reached my home, after saying my quick goodbyes I walked inside and found the same sight as always: an empty house. Maybe I should've said this earlier, but I live with my aunt.

My dad left when I was around six-moths old and my mom O.D on heroine when I was eight, so I was sent to go live with my aunt. Now my aunt was a good person, she treated me like her own child; made sure I had food to eat and had place to sleep, but the problem was that her job as a nurse had her work long hours, so I barley saw her and when I did she went straight to bed.

So fast-forward again to later that night to me in my room drawing some Unicorns in my notebook while watching a few reruns of Sailor Moon (Wow, I didn't realize how girly I was until I wrote this all down) anyway, as I was laying on my bed, I got a call from Riche who at first I thought was trying to ask me out again, however what I heard from would lead me down a path that would change my life forever (oh how dramatic!)

Jenna: *answers the phone* Hello?

Riche: *in a panic* Jenna thank god I got a hold of you!

Jenna: whoa Riche slow down what's wrong?

Riche: Wade forced Vigil to join his gang for tonight's gang war at the docks, you live close to the docks so please get him out of this mess before he gets himself killed!

Jenna: *jumps up from her bed* I'm on my way now!

I bolted out of my house and ran as fast I my legs could carry me to the docks, praying to a god that I didn't believe in that Vigil was still alive. When I finally reached the docks, all I could hear was the sounds of people screaming and gunfire in the air. I braved my fears and climbed the fence surrounding the docks and started my search for my friend, which didn't last long since right after I had entered the docks.

The police had already arrived and were firing tear gas into the area which someone how during the firefight set off someone kind of chain-reaction with something stored in the docks, I didn't know if it was chemicals or toxic waste or some kind of super-solider serum, all I knew was that once it mixed with the tear gas it released this gas into the air that I was unlucky enough to inhale it by accident. In a state of my own panic, I climbed by over the fence and ran back home before I got caught by the police, still not knowing if Virgil was alive or dead.

As I ran, I felt my stomach churn like I eaten something rotten, I broke out in a sudden sweat and my vision began to get blurry, however I powered through the sudden sickness and managed to reach my house where once I entered it, I vomited all over the floor before weakly stumbling over to the sofa on passing out on it.

The next I knew I woke up the next mourning feeling surprisingly refreshed, in fact I felt better the refreshed I like I was reborn, like all of my insecurity's and anxieties had left my body like fog lifting over my head, hell I didn't even need my glasses anymore.

And that's when I saw myself in the living room mirror.

My skin had turned pale grey and my eyes had changed pink (with little cat-like iris's might I add) as well as my hair, as you can imagine I didn't take to the new look so quickly. I let out a scream in shock, which somehow triggered my powers for the first time. A pink flash of energy escaped from my fingertips, causing the mirror to break. I stumbled back unto the sofa, causing it to come apart with a single touch.

By this point, I was in full on panic mode. I had no clue what had happened to me or what I should do now and to top that off my aunt would more then likely be coming home any minute from her late night shift, thank god it was Saturday or I'd be really screwed.

I wasn't even thinking when I ran out the door, I was so scared what my aunt might think of me that all I remember was running down the street in a frenzy, breaking lamp posts, stop signs and whatever object I past buy on the street with my new powers. I was so caught up in my own fears that I didn't notice a certain queen bitch in front of me before I ran into her.

Connie: Ow! Watch it you freak! *gets a better look at Jenna* wait a sec, I know you, your that geek Jenna! What's with the new look? Halloween isn't here for another six months!

I really didn't want to deal with this stuck-up brat's B.S and attempted to leave, but she grabbed me by the back of my shirt and dragged me into an alleyway and pinned me up against a wall.

Connie: You didn't think you could just walk away did you?

Jenna: Connie please just let me go; I don't want to hurt you!

Connie: *laughs* oh that's funny, you hurting me!

Jenna: *eyes glow pink* Leave me alone!

In that moment of rage, my powers flung her backwards right under a fire escape. One of the bars came loose and impaled her through the lower part of her back, making her scream out in pain. I wanted to help her, but the next thing I knew I was running away from her as fast as I could, leavening her to die in that alleyway.

I kept running until I finally reached the park, where I hid under the bridge. I had to stop and collect my thoughts after what I had done, I never wanted to hurt anyone in my entire life, but after doing harm to the likes of someone like Connie, a person who did nothing but hurt me, it felt...just wrong, I mean yeah that psycho-bitch needed to be put in her place, but I never wanted to straight up kill her and I still didn't know how or why I got these new powers.

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I failed to notice a pair of figure walking up to me, it wasn't until they were right up on me that I saw them. In case you your wondering diary as to who these two 'mysterious figures' are (which I know your not, because again, you're a book)

I jump back in fear of the two newcomers, who after this first meeting would become my teammates and friends (even though I still won't say it to their faces) Gizmo and Mammoth.

Gizmo: whoa, take it easy! We don't mean you any harm!

Mammoth: unless you make us

Gizmo: *to Mammoth* shut up! *to Jenna* my name is Gizmo and that's Mammoth, we've been following you all day

Jenna: *nervously* why?

Gizmo: because of your powers, you see Mammoth and I are student representatives for a very special school for people like yourself; we originally came here to do some recruiting around the city after the Big-Bag

Jenna: The Big Bang?

Mammoth: That's what there calling it, some kinda weird gas got loose and is giving these kids all these crazy powers, that's what you are right? You're a Bang-Baby?

Jenna: no! I can't be!

Gizmo: see I told you Mammoth, she's magic!

Jenna: uh yeah, that's right! I'm magic! *to Jenna* you are magic right?

To this day I still had no idea why I lied about me being magic, maybe it was just spur of the moment or maybe I wanted to be unique, but whatever the reason I let those words escape my mouth.

Gizmo: Sweet! We're always looking for magic-based students; I think we only have five so far right now

Mammoth: we just got that new kid a week ago uh...what's his name again? Kid Nasty right?

Gizmo: beats me, but now we have six *to Jenna* that is, if you want to come with us

At first I wanted to say no, but I wanted desperately to get away from this place and get these new powers under control.

Jenna: yes, I'll join you

Gizmo: In that case, welcome to H.I.V.E...uh...what's your name?

Jenna: call me...Jinx

So with that (and one quick robbery of a Hot Topic later) I became a super-villain in training at H.I.V.E Academy, under their teachings I learned to use my powers in ways I never thought possible. I quickly rose through the ranks alongside Gizmo and Mammoth and later along with Billy, See-More and Kid Wicked to become some of their top students, that is until we decided to leave and well the rest I guess you can say is history.

So that's it, there's my 'secret origin' in all its glory (or shame) diary, it's nothing glamorous, but that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

...you know what diary? I'm just going to stick with writing about Kid Flash from now on.

* * *

**Next Issue: No one escapes H.I.V.E!**


	5. Deathstroke Year One, Part 3

**Deathstroke: Year One**

**Part Three**

**By JoeyJoell**

* * *

**2000-Cadmus Labs, Australia**

Voice 1: His body won't be able to take any more of the serum, sir.

Voice 2: He's ready?

Voice 1: He'll need a couple of weeks to adjust, but...

Voice 2: No, I want you to test his limits now and have him ready for the next step as soon as possible, alright? We can't afford to wait.

Voice 1: He'll die, General Lane.

General Lane: Then we'll get another, and then another until it works.

* * *

**Somewhere, a few days later**

A bright light flashes before Slade Wilson's eyes as he awakens, fury in his eyes, blood on his face but no wounds for it to leak from. Trees weave between each other around him as a figure heads toward him, something cylindrical pointed in Slade's face as the figure gets closer, closer. He can just make it out as a man in heavy armour, his rifle almost hitting Slade in the face. Around him, a few other men in seemingly identical armour, they stare, their eyes peeping through the masks that hide their faces.

Man: He's awake.

Slade growls, instantly pulling on the barrel of the rifle and tearing it from the rest of the gun, before the soldier has time to react, he close lines him, instantly knocking him unconscious. He stamps out his head, killing him as his face caves in, gunfire, time moves slowly as Slade dodges the bullets, weaving through their deadly trail. He lunges at a soldier, gripping his armour, forward rolling in the air and throwing him against a tree. Slade pulls a knife from another soldier's belt and throws it, impaling the man and pinning him against the tree, he then turns, punching the soldier's face and then snapping his neck. The final soldier contemplates running, but before he can decide, Slade leaps towards him and fly kicks him, the soldier being thrown against a tree while Slade removes a gun from a soldier's cold unmoving body. **BLAM**.

A couple of branches start to move, Slade instantly detects this, his eyes shooting to the rhythm of the moving bristles.

Slade: What the hell did they do to me?

Faster, faster, the branches weaving between each other, figures rushing as Slade turns to them, his eyes locking onto them as he sprints after his target, the hunted noticing and running away. The hunter's legs move like lightning, a face of determination as he rips through the trees and screeches.

Runner 1: Please, we don't want any trouble!

Runner 2: Oh fuck this.

The second runner turns, holding a large machine gun and fires into the unknown, all of the bullets miraculously hitting Slade. He brushes them off, the bullets popping out as his body heals. The runner drops his gun, clapping his hands together and creating a fireball, launching it at Slade. It knocks the terminator on his back, however, he instantly recovers and gets to his feet.

Runner 1: Come on, let's go!

Runner 2: No! Go back to the group, call for help!

Slade deflects a fireball with his bare hands, the flesh sizzling away but then growing back. A sight of worry on the runner's face as he blasts Slade with another fireball, it burning at his torso, Slade screeching until escaping from the blast and sliding under. Without giving the runner a moment of reaction time, Slade sweep kicks him, knocking him over. He lifts the dropped gun, pointing it at the runner's face with his teeth grit.

?: Please, no need to fight, mate.

Slade turns to see a group of five, including the runner from before all holding large machine guns, and at the centre, the leader of sorts, a white haired man. He had grandfatherly eyes, although eyes that could shift to those of a predator, but the face of a man around forty. His hair is in a circa 1940's style, as well as his thick moustache.

Wintergreen: My name is Wintergreen, General Wintergreen. Please. Put down the gun.

Slade: Funny. I knew a man called Wintergreen.

Wintergreen: Knew?

Slade: He was a traitor, ready to kill millions following orders.

Wintergreen: Well, I think you'll find that all of us are notorious for not following orders. All cowards not ready to do what was necessary for Queen and country.

Slade: I'm American.

Wintergreen: I know, it just sounds a lot better when I word it like that.

Slade drops the gun.

Slade: What the hell is happened to me?

Wintergreen: Cadmus happened. Don't worry, the torture, the testing, the beatings everything will come back to you in time. None of us remember once we come out of the lab.

Slade: The lab?

Wintergreen: You'll remember. What's your name?

Slade: Slade Wilson.

Wintergreen: Well, Slade, I think you'd better come with us.

* * *

**Camp, somewhere**

Wintergreen, Slade and the others enter a small camp with homemade tents, fires lighting up the area and a poorly cleared area for living. Many stop and stare at Slade as he enters, the others leaving to their tents while Slade follows Wintergreen to a burning fire. They both sit, Slade still looking confused.

Wintergreen: What's the last thing you remember?

Slade: They threatened my family.

Wintergreen: They'll make you do it any way they can, won't they?

Slade: Yep. So what's your story.

Wintergreen: Treason. Ex British secret service in the 60s, they caught me, spent most of my life locked up until they put me in here. They wanted to see if this performance enhancing serum affected aging, obviously... it did.

Slade: So what is this... where is... this?

Wintergreen: They call it the final stage. They put us on this island, kill or be killed, survival of the fittest. There's rumours around here that there are cameras all over but we never find them. But they're watching us, and when they think we're ready we just disappear.

Slade: This doesn't look much like survival of the fittest to me.

Wintergreen: We decided to stick together, well, most of us... the sons of bitches you took out earlier aren't really what we'd call friends. They ran off a while back, the good thing about them, though is that they tend to disappear. Heh. Those Cadmus bastards take em off the island and do whatever with them.

Slade stares at Wintergreen until clutching the back of his head and groaning.

Wintergreen: Memories coming back, eh?

Wintergreen lifts up from the ground.

Wintergreen: I could kill for a Jammie Dodger right now.

* * *

**Cadmus Labs, Australia**

Sam Lane and a scientist stand watching the events on the island from Slade Wilson's point-of-view, almost looking through his left eye.

Scientist: I still don't think this is a good idea, sir. His body isn't ready.

Sam Lane: Do you think I give a damn, Doctor? There's a war coming, a war that we'll need more than ordinary soldiers for.

Scientist: I'm all for being ahead of the curve, sir, but if this man is the start of something big, I'd be careful with how I'm spending my money.

**An uncertain amount of time later...**

* * *

**The Island**

Soldier: He's found us! He's found us!

A few of the soldiers from earlier gather their weapons, loading them, cocking them, sharpening them, doing anything to stop the monster that approaches them. Panic is in the air as they all aim their guns north. There's silence for a few seconds until a racket of gunfire and death sprints towards the men, a few figures seen coming down a rocky path. Tear gas is showered down, creating a hazy image as through the gaps you can vaguely see them come even closer. They arrive, the smoke clears. Slade, Wintergreen and a few others arrive, heavy weaponry in hand.

Slade: Alright, boys. Give it all.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED-**


End file.
